Drowning
by belasgrl
Summary: Erik's and a teenage girl's lives cross paths. Mistakes are made, and people go through hardships. Is redemption and happiness possible?
1. Chapter 1

They were gone. His needles were gone. His morphine was gone. Without it, he wouldn't be able to sleep. He became angry. He knew what had happened to them.

Erik stormed into her room. She was sitting down on the bed, but he grabbed her by the arms and made her stand up. "Where did you put them?!" When she wouldn't speak, he shook her. "Where did you put them?!" he repeated. He dug his fingernails into her skin. She turned her head and winced.

"You're hurting me!"

Suddenly, Erik stopped and let go of her. His face turned white. What was he doing?

When he had let go of her, she ran out of the room and out of the house. Erik got over his shock just in time, because when he ran after her, she was already at the lake. He reached out to grab her, but she narrowly escaped his grasp and dove in the water. He dove in after her. He was able to grab her leg, but she kicked him. He tried to get a hold of her arm, but she fought him. She kicked him in the gut and swam alittle bit away from him.

Erik desperately tried to get a hold of her so they could go back to the house. He swam to the surface to catch his breath, and then he realized that she hadn't come up at all. She had to be running out of air. Erik yelled out, "Come back!"

He went under the water and grabbed a hold of her again, but each time he did, she fought him off. She seemed to be as slippery as a fish.

Time was running out. Erik now focused less on dragging her back to the house and more on trying to get her head above the water so she could breathe. Was she so desperate to get away from him that she didn't want to come up from the water to take a breath?

One final time, Erik reached out and was able to grab her. She didn't fight him back. In fact, she felt limp. He quickly swam to the surface and forced her head above the water. Her eyes were closed and wouldn't open.

Erik panicked. He swam with her to solid ground, and he quickly laid her down and pushed on her chest. Finally, water came out of her mouth, and she gasped for air. He cried out her name in relief, and when she finally sat up, he threw his arms around her. "I thought I had lost you! I'm so, so sorry. Please, forgive me."

She was too weak to say anything, and she fell into his arms and passed out. Erik stood up and scooped her in his arms and carried her back into the house.


	2. Chapter 2

Erik wrapped her up in blankets and laid her by the fire that he had just made. He didn't want to change his clothes until he knew she was okay.

He sat in a chair and covered his head in his hands. How could he have been so stupid? Was his drug-induced sleep more important than she was? No matter how hard he tried, he still hadn't been able to escape from the monster that he was. He wanted her to trust him, to feel safe around him, and all he had succeeded to do was scare her away. It was HIS fault that he frightened her. It was HIS fault that she ran away. It was HIS fault that she had almost drowned.

All of a sudden, all the memories of his time with her rushed through his head, beginning with the first time they had met...


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't safe for anyone to be out on the streets in Paris at night, but it especially wasn't safe for young girls. It was worse when it was freezing and frost was on the ground, and the WORST when a young girl was out at night in the cold with only a thin jacket on. Darcelle was in that situation right now. She tried not to think about the temperature as she snuck around buildings and through alleys, being careful to avoid being seen. Quietly, stealthily, she made her way to a store. The door was locked, of course, so she got a lockpick out of her pocket and struggled to unlock the door. Her hands were so cold that she could barely maneuver the lockpick, but finally, she was able to open the door.

Darcelle entered the store. She just had to take a few things. Just some food, enough to stuff in a bag. Then, she could leave.

The young girl cautiously took some food and put it in the bag she had been carrying around. When she was done, she left the store and went home, one time narrowly avoiding a cop.

Home was a run-down apartment in a poorer side of the city. She walked into the building and found the apartment where she lived. She knocked five times, and the door opened.

Inside was a fat, grungy man with unkempt hair and a beard and moustache. Surprisingly, his clothes were in good condition and fairly clean, but that was due to brand new clothes being stolen.

"Damnit! It's about time you got here, girl!" he yelled, gruffly.

"I am sorry, Monsieur Voclain," Darcelle said, quietly, as she handed him the bag of food. The man looked through it, then dumped the food onto the table. He grunted. "Hm. Well, I guess this will have to do."

That was as close of a compliment from him as she had ever gotten and would ever get.

"Put the food away," Monsieur Voclain said, "but leave the bread and cheese out so I may have my supper."

Darcelle did as she was told. She was tempted to sneak a bite of fruit, but she knew she would be punished if she did. Instead, after putting the food away, she held out a peach and asked, "Monsieur, may I have this? I have not eaten all day."

"You will not starve if you don't eat tonight," he said, grumpily.

"But I only want this peach."

"You may have the leftovers when I am done eating."

Not wanting to argue, Darcelle left it at that and started sweeping the floor. She had to keep busy or else he would chide her.

"Don't do that until AFTER I eat, you stupid girl! You are getting dirt and dust everywhere!"

"I'm sorry."

She sat on the floor until Monsieur Voclain finished eating. There weren't any leftovers. Disappointingly, she cleaned the dishes as the man got a book and started reading.

After the dishes were washed, dried, and put away, Darcelle timidly asked, "Monsieur, there is a show at the Opera tomorrow night, and I want to go."

"Well, that's too bad for you, now isn't it?"

"Please? I have never seen an opera before, and it is my dream to go to one."

"I will not have you go. You're not here to go to shows. Next, you'll be wanting to go shopping for purses and silk dresses! No, you are here to work for me. You earn your keep; that is all you are here for on this earth, and you need no more than what you have. Now, quit pestering me!"

"Yes, Monsieur Voclain."

Later on that night, after Monsieur Voclain was in bed asleep, Darcelle stared out of the window at nothing, for it was too dark to see anything. She still looked out the window and daydreamed about a different life, if there was such a thing. All she knew was poverty and harshness, and she wondered if finely dressed, wealthy people were just actors who actually just lived like she did. Were all the nice homes and gorgeous clothing a sham, a front to make other people jealous, when they really were just as poor as she was? She did not know. All she knew is that she wanted to see an opera at the Palais Garnier. She had to find a way to go to that show. Then, she had an idea: she would claim to be going out to steal from a house, when really, she would sneak out to see the show. She didn't have any money, but she could probably sneak in. After all, using stealth was what she did best.


	4. Chapter 4

It was incredibly hard to sneak into the opera house. At first, Darcelle was intimidated because there were so many people. How could she possibly get past all of them without being seen? She couldn't leave, not when she had walked all that way there, and DEFINITELY not after she saw the grand exterior. She held her breath and put her skills to the test.

As soon as she was inside, Darcelle marvelled at everything, sometimes forgetting to be alert of the people around her. Surprisingly, she was able to avoid drawing attention to herself. It probably helped that everyone was so busy preparing for the show that they were not paying any attention to anyone around them.

Now, where was she going to watch the show from? She certainly couldn't sit in the audience; she would be noticed then. Then, suddenly, Darcelle heard someone say, "Keep Box 5 empty. You-know-who is demanding to keep it so."

"What? The Phantom?"

"Shhh! We don't want to scare the audience or stagehands."

"Ah, my friend, someone is merely playing a silly joke on us. There is no Phantom."

"But, the letter..."

"It is all a jest. Do not worry."

"I still insist that no one use Box 5."

"Very well, if it will please you, and if it will make you be quiet."

Darcelle thought, after the two men went somewhere else, "Hmm. A box is to be left empty. That would be a perfect place to see the show, and nobody would see me if I'd be careful." The talk of a phantom didn't even cross her mind much; she knew there were no such thing as ghosts.

The young girl was able to sneak into the box without being seen. It appeared that all that practice from stealing was paying off. She tried to keep low so no one would come near her.

Later, the opera started. Darcelle was mesmerized from the moment the curtain rose. Everything was beautiful: the scenery, the costumes, and the voices! Everything was so wonderful! It was a dream come true!

A little bit before the first act ended, Darcelle heard a voice beside her. "What are you doing in my box?"

Darcelle shook, startled. "I...I..."

"And how did you get in without being seen?"

The girl looked around, but saw no one close to her. "I'm sorry," she apologized, quickly. "I just wanted-"

"I know what you wanted. Since I admire your courage and stealth, you may sit here this one time, but you will leave right after the show is over. Understood?"

"Yes," Darcelle said, frightened.

For the rest of the opera, Darcelle sat straight up, stiffly. She was scared, but she didn't let that stop her from watching the show. She immersed herself in the opera once more, ignoring everything around her.

At last, the show was over. As soon as the curtain fell, Darcelle remembered the voice's warning, and she darted up and quickly left the box. She manuevered her way around the interior, and finally got outside.

Darcelle ran toward an alley and stopped to catch her breath. She had almost been caught many times, but she was able to do what she came there for. Then, it occured to her that it was too risky to do ever again. She would never have the money or proper clothes or manners to legally go there, but at least she got to see one opera.

Then, she thought about the voice. It had been right beside her, yet, she saw nothing. It had frightened her, but not enough to make her leave. Was THAT the Phantom of which the men were speaking of? No, it couldn't be. Phantoms didn't exist. Maybe it was too dark for her to see him. Maybe his voice was just louder than she thought it was, and thus could be out of sight while at the same time talking to her. Yes, there were perfectly good explanations for her not seeing him. She did not dwell on the voice, however. She needed to rob a home, quickly, before Monsieur Voclain got suspicious.


	5. Chapter 5

All the next day, Darcelle couldn't get her mind off of what happened the night before. Monsieur Voclain yelled and griped at her more than usual because she kept daydreaming. When he left to go somewhere, Darcelle was ordered to clean the apartment and wash his clothes and have a meal cooked by the time he got back. It was just another day.

Darcelle had a hard time concentrating on anything other than her thoughts. She loved the outing she had had. She wished she could do it again, even though she knew she could not. Or could she? Maybe she could do it again, sneak in and watch another show from a different spot. Monsieur Voclain wouldn't be suspicious as long as she came home with valuable items, like she had the night before. She decided to do exactly as she had done the night before. Thus, that night, after Monsieur Voclain fell asleep, Darcelle set off again to the Opera House.

The girl was able to sneak inside the grand building once again and see the show. It was the same one as last time, but she saw it from a different spot since she did not go into Box 5 again. She did not care that it was the same production as the one the previous night; she still thoroughly enjoyed it.

After the opera was finished, Darcelle tried to sneak out of the building. However, she heard a man's voice behind her yell, "You, girl, what are you doing?!"

As Darcelle instinctively started to run, there was a big crash behind the man. As soon as he turned around, Darcelle felt a strong-smelling cloth against her nose and mouth. That's the last thing she saw before she passed out. 


	6. Chapter 6

Darcelle had a strange dream and she could not make any sense of it. She couldn't even tell who was in it beside herself. She saw mist. She saw smoke. She saw darkness. She heard voices, more than one, six, a hundred? She wasn't sure. She felt that she was constantly being moved. It was only when she suddenly stopped moving in her dream that she woke up.

The girl opened her eyes, widely, but made no sounds. She looked at her surroundings. She was in a fairly large bedroom. It was almost the size of the apartment Monsieur Voclain and she lived in, though it was much, MUCH nicer. There was a dresser and a mirror. She saw that she was lying on a small bed, covered under a thick, blue blanket. It was very homely, and the bed was very comfortable, but she needed to see what was outside the door.

The only door that she saw opened to a bathroom. She left that room and went back into the bedroom, but saw no other doors. "Strange," she thought. She then felt the walls, thinking that maybe there was a secret passage.

As Darcelle was touching the walls, she heard three knocks, and a door opened. She was surprised since she hadn't seen that door. A man wearing a black mask came inside the room. He was wearing evening clothes and was thin. He was carrying a few things. Oddly, she wanted to help, since his arms were full. She reached for something on the top of the pile and stood there. The man thanked her and put the things on the bed. "Just set them there," he said.

Suddenly, Darcelle dropped the items she was holding. She pointed at him and shook. "You're...you're the voice!"

"Yes, that I am."

"What do you want? Where am I? I know I'm not home."

"You dropped your things. I shall get them for you."

"No," Darcelle said, and bending down, picked up the items, never taking her eyes off the man. The man then held out his arms, and she handed the things to him. He sat them on the bed, as well.

"Who are you and what do you want and where am I?" the young girl repeated.

"All in time. Call me "The Voice", if it pleases you, and we are in my home. That is all you need to know. Now, I'm sure you are hungry. Let us go eat."

Darcelle followed him, bewildered. At least she would get a chance to look around more.

They went into a dining room, where a small table was already set. There was more food on that one table than she had ever eaten in a week's time. The man pulled out a chair, and Darcelle sat down, and he sat at the other end. "Go ahead," he said, motioning to the food.

Darcelle was about to eat when she looked at him, suspiciously. "You were the one who made me pass out."

"Yes, though I am sorry. You needed to be taken away before any of the guards or managers threw you out."

"But you used chlorophorm and dragged to to this place. How is that any different?"

"You aren't hurt, are you?"

"No."

"You would have been if you had been thrown out, and even more when you got home."

"How do you know that?"

"I know many things."

"So how do I know that you won't poison me?"

The masked man laughed. "Poison you? Child, if I wanted to do that, I would have already done so. You are unharmed, and I promise that no harm will come to you while you are here. Now, please, eat. You look like you haven't eaten in days."

"Very little," and that was the last thing Darcelle said before eating. She didn't realize how hungry she was, and she wolfed down her food. She cleared her plate, and the man asked if she wanted more. She nodded and he took her plate and went into another room, then returned with the plate full. She ate everything on that plate, as well.

When she was done, the man said, "Now that you've had enough to eat, perhaps you would like to lie down. I'm sorry that the bed is not more comfortable. I shall get you a new one."

"Um, that's not necessary. It's not like I'm going to be staying here for long?"

"Oh? What makes you think that?"

"You can't possibly keep me here."

"Very well. You may go, if you can find the way out. In the meantime, I shall work on my music."

"Music?"

"Yes. Did you see the piano in the living room?"

"I noticed it, yes."

"That is where I'll go. You, on the other hand, may leave."

"Alright, I will," Darcelle responded, confidently. Then, she started her task.

There weren't any doors in the living room nor the dining room. She, however, did notice a door, and she opened it. It did not lead to the outside, but rather to another room. Darcelle was taken aback. In the middle of the room was a coffin, and taking up a whole wall was an organ with a desk with papers on it close by.

All of a sudden, she heard the man's voice behind her. "This is my room."

"It's very...interesting," Darcelle said, sharply drawing in a breath.

"You may go in and look around, if you wish."

Bravely, Darcelle stepped inside and searched the walls for a door, but she found none. She then went to the living room and felt all around the walls, and in the dining room, she did the same thing, with no success. She finally gave up after a few hours and then stood beside the man who was still playing the piano. He stopped and looked at her. "I thought you were leaving."

"I would, if you would tell me the way out."

"I must admit, you are very persistent. That's an admirable quality for most."

"Are you going to let me out now?"

"No."

The man looked away from her and began playing again. By that time, Darcelle became angry. She yelled, "Let me out of here, you ass!"

"Such language."

Darcelle fumed, then grabbed his wrist to make him stop playing. He looked up at her and quietly said with a deep tone, "You are very brave, mademoiselle, but you are making a mistake. Let go of me."

She obeyed, but she was still angry. "Tell me how I can get out of here."

"You are a smart girl; you will figure it out eventually. For now, you should go to sleep. You've had a big meal and an exhausting time feeling almost every inch of this place."

"I've already slept; I'm not tired. Besides, I need to go home."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Yes, that is a valid reason," the man said, sarcastically.

"Well, would YOU like to be kept somewhere against your will?"

"Child, I have been in that situation before many times. You must trust me when I tell you that this is the best place you can ever be in."

"How can I trust you when you drugged me and dragged me to...wherever this is?" Darcelle asked, annoyed.

"It couldn't be helped," the masked man simply said.

Darcelle gave up talking to him and sat down on the couch. She had to think of a way out of there. She would come up with a plan and then enforce it while he was either asleep or away. She'd find a way out of there; she couldn't give up. She wasn't going to be a prisoner. 


	7. Chapter 7

Later that day, or night (she couldn't tell which, since there were no windows), Darcelle waited until the masked man was gone. He had said he was going shopping for more things for her. She sat in the living room, her mind racing. She went into what was considered her bedroom and took out two of the drawers from her dresser. She smashed them on the floor, and they broke in sharp pieces. She used a ribbon to tie a couple of the longer pieces together. She then went back into the living room and started chiseling at the walls. It was most likely that the way out was through that chamber, and she would try her best to loosen the stones. The plan would most likely fail, but she didn't have any other objects she could use to help her escape, so she did the best that she could.

As expected, her plan didn't work. The wood wasn't sharp or sturdy enough, so it wasn't a good chisel. She finally gave up and sat down on the sofa, disappointed.

All of a sudden, part of the wall opened, and the masked man came in, holding a few bags. Now was her chance! She didn't know how the wall opened; she just knew that she had a way to escape now! She ran toward the door and almost got through the doorway when she felt a cold and bony hand grab her arm. She struggled to free herself, but she was pulled back in. The door shut, and the man stepped into the room, letting go of her.

Darcelle charged at him and hit his stomach, his chest, anything she could slam her fists on. The man dropped the bags and grabbed both of her arms. She kicked him and rushed to the wall where the door apparently was and beat on it several times until her knuckles started bleeding. The man grabbed her from behind and dragged her away from the door. Darcelle kicked and screamed. Then, suddenly, she felt something sharp pierce through her skin, and she relaxed, then fainted.

Later, Darcelle awoke, this time in a softer, prettier bed. She looked around. There was a different dresser in the room, and there were rows of shoes on one side of the room along with a chair with dresses laying on it. The chamber was more decorated now. While it was a pleasing sight, she suddenly remembered the door that the man had opened, and she rushed up out of bed. It was then that she noticed her hands were wrapped up in bandages. She unwrapped them and saw that they were bloody, as was the bandage. Still, she didn't let that bother her as she rushed toward the door. It was locked. She pounded on it and yelled for the man to open the door.

Soon, the man opened the door and said, "You are awake. Good. I trust you slept well?"

"You bastard! What did you do to me?!"

"I gave you morphine so you would calm down and sleep. You were wild with anger and desperation."

"Of course I was! You wouldn't let me out!" Then, Darcelle calmed down and said, "I know the way out, so you have to let me go."

"Ah, but you don't know how to open the door, and you didn't actually find it, so you cannot leave."

"You just don't want me to go."

"How are your hands? Let me see them."

The girl turned away from him. "No!"

"I want to see if they are doing any better. They were a mess when I bandaged them up. They need to be cleaned and re-bandaged."

"I don't care! I just want out!"

"But they will get infected if you don't treat them."

"I don't care!"

Darcelle tried to run, but she felt dizzy and almost fell. The man caught her and gently dragged her to the bed. "I hate you! I hate you!" Darcelle cried, which is something she rarely did.

The masked man sighed. "I can't stand to see a lady cry. If it will make you feel better, I shall tell you my name and why I have brought you here, if you will tell me your name."

"Darcelle," she said through her tears.

"I am Erik," the man said. "I brought you here because you were about to be caught and thrown out of the opera house. Eventually, your guardian would have found out, and you would have been in even more danger."

"So? Why do you care?"

"I am intrigued by you. You have a lot of courage and stealth. Not a lot of children have that. Tell me, did you acquire those traits from being a thief?"

"How do you know about all that?"

"I have my ways. Now, is it true?"

Darcelle looked away. "I have to steal. We're poor, and there's no other way."

"I see, but why do YOU steal? Why does he not go out and do those things himself?"

"I'm smaller and younger."

"Many different kinds of people are theives. You do not need to get yourself involved in crime."

"You're one to talk. Kidnapping is a crime. Drugging people is a crime."

"Yes, you're right, but I am talking about you, not me. You know, most little girls learn to be homemakers and learn how to do certain things like read and sew and even play music or sing."

"I'm not a little girl!"

"Of course not, but..." His voice trailed off.

"But what?"

"I don't think it's right for a young girl or boy to live the life you do."

"I don't care what you think. I don't want to be trapped here forever."

"I promise you that you won't be. You will, however, stay here for a week. Until you leave, though, make yourself at home. You may do what you wish, though I hope you will respect my wishes to not go into my bedroom again."

Darcelle found it useless to argue with him. "Alright," she mumbled.

"Very good. Now, let me see your hands."

"No."

"As you wish, but at least clean them and bandage them yourself. You will find them in your bathroom."

Erik left the room, and Darcelle went to the bathroom. She washed her wounds and wrapped clean bandages around them, all the while thinking, "If I can't fight him, maybe I can convince him to let me go if I'm nice to him. After all, you catch more flies with honey than with vinigar..." 


	8. Chapter 8

"It's 6:00 in the evening," Erik told Darcelle. "Are you hungry? Dinner will be ready soon."

"I guess so."

"Good. I hope you will enjoy it."

Darcelle shrugged.

"Perhaps some music will cheer you up."

"Are you a composer?"

"Yes." Erik started playing the piano for a while, then he left the room. Soon, he came back and stated, "Dinner is ready."

Darcelle followed him into the dining room, and they sat down. She noticed that the masked man did not eat. She lifted up her head and asked, "Do you ever eat?"

Erik chuckled. "Yes, I do, but I will not do it in front of you."

Darcelle just continued eating.

After dinner was through, they went into the living room. Erik said to the young girl, "I know you enjoyed the opera. Would you like it if I played some of the music?"

"If you want to."

"I think this part would be best played on the violin." He picked up a violin that was near the piano and began playing part of the music from Act Two. Darcelle was mesmerized by the music. It reminded her of the two nights that she saw the opera, how magical it was. She smiled, faintly.

Erik seemed to notice how happy she was, and he kept playing. When he stopped, he asked, "Would you like me to teach you how to play?"

"I'm not good at music. I never really heard any good music until I saw the show."

"You shall hear more, much more, and I can teach you to use any instrument."

"I can't learn anything."

"Nonsense! You are capable of learning any subject you wish."

"That would be true if I was another person, but...I'm me, and I'm not good at anything."

"Why do you say that?"

"Monsieur Voclain tells me I am...worthless." Darcelle wasn't so sure if she should tell Erik personal things, but she figured she had no reason not to tell him. "He says that I am good at nothing and that I will always BE nothing."

"And do you believe him?"

"Of course I do. When you hear those things every day, you just start to believe it."

Erik was quiet for a few moments. He seemed to be lost in thought or remembering something. "Madamoiselle," he finally said, slowly, "you are most certainly not worthless. This Monsieur Voclain is the one who is worthless. He is despicable for telling you that you are nothing, for that is most certainly not true."

"If you say so," Darcelle muttered.

Erik began playing beautiful music on the piano. He seemed so immersed in it that he didn't stir or acknowledge that Darcelle had stood up. When he wasn't looking, she went into his bedroom. She had remembered seeing a grand organ and a lot of papers near it. Maybe one of them would say how the door worked.

Darcelle began rummaging through the papers, but all of them were just sheet music. Then, she spied a small case. When she opened it, she found some full viles and two syringes. It was the morphine he had drugged her with! She quickly closed the case and hid it in her dress; he would not use it on her again.

As she turned to leave the room, she saw Erik in the doorway. "What did I tell you about coming in here?!" he yelled.

The young girl shook, startled. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, you're sorry, are you? You have some gall, disrespecting my wishes! All I asked was that you not come in here, and yet you took the liberty of snooping through my things!" He came closer to her. "I have shown unbelievable patience with you, young madamoiselle. I let you sit in my box, I let you into my home and gave you everything you need, and yet you are so ungrateful! My patience has worn thin with you!"

Before she could run, Erik grabbed her arm and dragged her into her room. He threw her in there and quickly shut the door behind him.

Darcelle didn't even bother trying to open the bedroom door, for she knew it only unlocked from the outside. She sat down on the bed in despair. Then, remembering the case, she stood up and hid it in one of the dresser drawers. At least she wouldn't be drugged for now.


	9. Chapter 9

They were gone. His needles were gone. His morphine was gone. Without it, he wouldn't be able to sleep. He became angry. He knew what had happened to them.

Erik stormed into Darcelle's room. She was sitting down on the bed, but he grabbed her by the arms and made her stand up. "Where did you put them?!" When she wouldn't speak, he shook her. "Where did you put them?!" he repeated. He dug his fingernails into her skin. She turned her head and winced.

"You're hurting me!"

Suddenly, Erik stopped and let go of Darcelle. His face turned white. What was he doing?

When he had let go of her, she ran out of the room and to the door. In her frenzy, she somehow got the door open. She ran out of the house. Erik got over his shock just in time, because when he ran after her, she was already at the lake. He reached out to grab her, but she narrowly escaped his grasp and dove in the water. He dove in after her. He was able to grab her leg, but she kicked him. He tried to get a hold of her arm, but she fought him. She kicked him in the gut and swam a little bit away from him.

Erik desperately tried to get a hold of her so they could go back to the house. He swam to the surface to catch his breath, and then he realized that she hadn't come up at all. She had to be running out of air. Erik yelled out, "Come back!"

He went under the water and grabbed a hold of her again, but each time he did, she fought him off. She seemed to be as slippery as a fish.

Time was running out. Erik now focused less on dragging her back to the house and more on trying to get her head above the water so she could breathe. Was she so desperate to get away from him that she didn't want to come up from the water to take a breath?

One final time, Erik reached out and was able to grab her. She didn't fight him back. In fact, she felt limp. He quickly swam to the surface and forced her head above the water. Her eyes were closed and wouldn't open.

Erik panicked. He swam with her to solid ground, and he quickly laid her down and pushed on her chest. Finally, water came out of her mouth, and she gasped for air. He cried out her name in relief, and when she finally sat up, he threw his arms around her. "I thought I had lost you! I'm so, so sorry. Please, forgive me."

She was too weak to say anything, and she fell into his arms and passed out. Erik stood up and scooped her in his arms and carried her back into the house.

Erik wrapped Darcelle up in blankets and laid her by the fire that he had just made. He didn't want to change his clothes until he knew she was okay.

He sat in a chair and covered his head in his hands. How could he have been so stupid? Was his drug-induced sleep more important than she was? No matter how hard he tried, he still hadn't been able to escape from the monster that he was. He wanted her to trust him, to feel safe around him, and all he had succeeded to do was scare her away. It was HIS fault that he frightened her. It was HIS fault that she ran away. It was HIS fault that she had almost drowned.

But why was it so important for her to trust him? Why did she mean anything to him? Why had he been so kind to her? Why had he brought her here? He should have known better. What had he expected to gain?

Erik looked at the young girl that was only a few feet away, lying by the fire, helpless. She was fragile but at the same time, strong. She had been abused and forced to do things she had not wanted to do. She had been used for someone else's gain, only to be treated badly. Then, he suddenly realized why he had brought her to his home.

She reminded him of himself.

He remembered the painful parts of his past, which was pretty much all of his past. He knew that Darcelle's past wasn't nearly as tramatizing as his own, however, her life had been harsh enough. No child should have to go through what she had gone through.

All of a sudden, a terrible thought struck him. He had treated Darcelle the same as everyone else had. He let his rage take over him again. He was used to being intimidating and enraged; it was the only way that people feared him. It was the only way that he got what he wanted, but was it really necessary to scare Darcelle like he had? Maybe it was for the best. When he would let her go, she would tell others how terrifying he was. His reputation would be safe. At the same time, though, he felt a pain of guilt from being so terrible to her. He knew he was a monster, not even human, but Darcelle was human. There was nothing he really wanted of her, and nothing could be gained from treating her badly. For the first time that he could remember, Erik was ashamed.

Later on, before Erik could doze off, he saw Darcelle stir and sit up. She attempted to stand, but she was still too weak. Erik rushed toward her and caught her before she could fall. Darcelle took one look at Erik and tried to get away from him. In a feeble attempt, she tried to scratch him, but she gave up when she realized that she was too weak. Erik gently sat her down by the fire and draped the blanket over her shoulders. "You need to rest, Darcelle."

"I'm so tired," the girl said, weakly.

"Then lie down. If you want, I'll get you some soup."

"I don't really care anymore. I can't decide if this is all a nightmare, a horrible dream that I can't wake up from."

Erik sighed. "Rest, child. Sleep as long as you need to."

Darcelle laid down again and soon fell into a deep slumber. Knowing that she wouldn't wake up for quite awhile, Erik left to change into dry clothes. He came back to the living room and sat at his piano and started playing a random tune. It was sad in some places and harsh in others. Being the musical genius that he was, he made the whole thing up as he went along, not bothering to write the melody down. He hoped that it was one that he would not play again.

Hours later, Darcelle stood up. Most of her strength had returned, so she left the fireside. She saw that she was in Erik's home. She had dreamed that she was in there, but she thought it was just a dream. The last thing she remembered was sinking in the water and someone grabbing her. Perhaps she had drowned, and this was a waiting place, neither Heaven nor Hell.

The girl turned when she saw Erik enter the room with a bowl of soup. He said, "I'm so glad you're awake! I was afraid that you had...Well, I brought you some food. You may sit in the dining room and eat or in this chair. You can set the bowl on the end table beside it."

"I don't need to eat."

"Of course you do. Please, sit down."

"Are you a demon or an angel?"

"Neither. Why?"

"If I am to be judged, will at least take me to where I need to go?"

Erik became confused. "Darcelle, are you alright?"

"I am in neither Heaven nor Hell, Paradise nor Pain, so I'm awaiting to be judged."

The masked man became alarmed. "Child, you're not dead. You're in my home. You almost drowned, but you are safe, now. Please, eat."

Darcelle ignored him. "I know how I died. I lost air and fell into a watery grave. I guess everyone's waiting place is different, since I doubt everyone would be placed in my former captive's house."

Erik despaired. Had the girl gone mad? "Darcelle, please! You are not dead! This is not an illusion! I am Erik, the one who indeed brought you to my home. I am sorry for the way I acted. I beg you to regain your sanity!"

"If you will not take me to the place where I will be judged, then I must find the way myself."

Darcelle started wandering around, but Erik seized her before she got very far. "Child, please, listen to reason! You are not awaiting judgement, for you are still living!" He pleaded with her. "God, what have I done?!" Then, he thought of an idea. "Darcelle, you must not move. This illusion will disappear, and you will then be judged. Until then, you must sit and wait."

The young girl responded, "Alright," and sat down in the chair.

Erik sighed in relief. That would at least give him enough time to try to make her well, and perhaps time would heal her.

For the whole time that Darcelle sat still, Erik tried to coax her to realize what had actually happened and what was taking place at that moment. Although she obediently sat still in the chair, she did not seem convinced that she was alive and in a real place. He tried showing her things from her room. He tried jogging her memory by telling her every single detail of what had happened between the time she had first gone to the opera until the time she went into the lake. She said she remembered those things, but only as memories of her life.

Erik almost became wild with despair. There was only one thing he hadn't tried. He walked to the piano and sat down and started playing a piece from the show that she had seen the two times she had went to the opera house. Suddenly, Darcelle got up out of the chair and went beside him. She seemed intrigued. "Yes, yes, you know this, don't you?" Erik asked her, hopeful.

"The music... The opera..."

"Yes. Remember those nights? How magnificent the stage and singers were? You had never seen something so wonderful!"

Darcelle said, "It was the best days of my life. Then...someone yelled at me...And..." Her eyes widened. "Then you dragged me here!"

Well, at least she was over her madness.

Erik ceased playing and replied, regretfully, "Yes, Darcelle, it is true. I brought you here."

"You monster!"

Erik looked away. "That is what I am. You are correct. I had no right to treat you the way I did, and I have no excuse." He paused for a moment, then said, slowly, "You may leave, now. I will not keep you here anymore. Even though I have no right to ask you this, my only request is that you tell no one about this place and that you allow me to blindfold you as I take you out of here. When we are inside the building, I will make sure you are unseen. Then, you will never see me again."

"I don't have a reason to think you'll do this."

"I know, but I cannot keep you here any longer. I must ask that you trust me just this once, for the sake of your freedom."

Darcelle considered his offer, then she replied, "Alright."

"Very well. Would you like to take any of your things?"

"No."

"Then, we shall be off."

Soon, they left the house, and Erik pulled a boat toward them. As soon as they were both in it, Erik blindfolded Darcelle. Darcelle did not struggle as he did so. Then, they left.

It seemed to take hours to get to the opera house, but finally, Erik took the blindfold off, and he led her to a secret way out. They didn't say goodbye to each other. They simply parted. Erik disappeared, and Darcelle made her way to the apartment where she and Monsieur Voclain lived.

When Erik returned home, he went to the bedroom where Darcelle had slept. He went through her things. When he opened her dresser drawers, he found his case of morphine in one of them. He knew she had hidden it, and she had hidden it well. At first, he became angry, but then, he realized that she had hidden it so he wouldn't use any more of it on her. He sighed and took the case. He was going to get some much-needed sleep, but only the drug would help. He hadn't slumbered in over a day, but the fact that his thoughts would keep him awake made him decide to use more of the drug than he usually did. 


	10. Chapter 10

As expected, Monsieur Voclain was furious when Darcelle arrived home. He beat her and screamed at her and ordered her to clean the apartment, which had been trashed during the few days she was gone. Afterward, he tied her up. She had struggled, but the man only beat her more. He tied her wrists up and pushed her onto a chair and tied her to it. He ordered her to stay there and threatened her with a knife if she didn't. Darcelle was scared, but not so much that she tried to escape. She had lived her one dream, and now that she had, she had no reason to go anywhere else. She would never go back to the opera house.

Days later, Monsieur Voclain came in with a girl about Darcelle's age and a man. Monsieur Voclain untied Darcelle from the chair but didn't untie her wrists. He handed her to the man. "Be careful with this one; she's a runner."

"Don't worry, we will keep a watch on her," the other man said.

The man took Darcelle's arm and led her out of the apartment. The other girl stayed behind. The man who led her said nothing. They got in a carriage and rode until they got to a factory. He led her inside.

The factory was filled with children her age. They were mostly girls, and a lot of them were much younger than she. The man dragged her to a chair in front of a box of matches and untied her wrists. He gave her quick instructions and then left her. When she tried to speak, the man growled at her to shut up and do her work.

Darcelle, seeing no alternative, began working. She tried to speak to the children close to her, but they just lowered their heads and kept dilligently doing their tasks.

The man came back some time later and yelled at Darcelle, screaming that her work was unacceptable. He dragged her out of her chair and took her to the side. "Listen up!" he yelled, addressing everyone on the floor, "This girl is slow to learn how to do a simple task right! Let's make an example of what happens when you don't do your job the way it should be done!" Then, the man slapped Darcelle, knocking her to the ground. She soon felt dozens of sharp pains across her back. The man kicked her and screamed at her to get up. He was holding a whip. "Now, sit back down and do your job correctly!"

Darcelle obeyed. She had been used to getting beatings from Monsieur Voclain, but never this severe. She began her work again, immediately, and became better and better at the menial tasks by watching those around her. No one said a word.

Half of the day passed, and the workers were finally allowed to go home. Darcelle knew that she was now homeless. Where was she suppose to go? Soon, the man who had taken her and whipped her grabbed her arm. "You are coming with me!"

Darcelle shook. She was afraid of going home with him. He was similar to Monsieur Voclain, but he was much, much worse.

The girl was taken to an orphanage, a very crowded and dirty orphanage. The owner of it was an old, nasty woman. The man shoved her toward the woman, and the woman ordered Darcelle to go inside. As soon as the woman shut the door behind her, she said, "You are going to stay here, and don't even think of running away! You aren't going to be paid anything at that factory; you're going to work in exchange for staying here. Now, go upstair and go to bed!"

Darcelle went to the second floor, where there were many children of all ages. All of them were the same ones who worked at the factory. Most of them had already laid down to sleep. There were no beds, only thin mattresses on the floor. She couldn't tell how many mattresses were there since everyone was crowded right next to each other. Darcelle was also tired, so she tried to find a spot, any spot, where she could lie down. Eventually, she found one, even though it was half on a mattress and half on the floor. She didn't care. Quickly, she fell asleep.

Very early the next morning, the woman woke all of the children up. They went downstairs for breakfast, which consisted on one piece of bread. They didn't have much time to eat, for they were rushed out of the orphanage and walked to the factory.

As soon as they got there, Darcelle noticed that there was someone inside that wasn't there the day before. It was the girl who had been with Monsieur Voclain! Darcelle tried to speak with her, but she was silenced. She had to speak to this girl sometime, though.

Eventually, all of the workers got a very short break. Darcelle went to the girl and exclaimed, "You are the one that came to Monsieur Voclain's house!"

"Yes, I am Michelle," the girl responded, shyly.

"Did he give you to the factory, as well?"

"He is dead."

Darcelle was shocked. "Dead?"

"Yes. He was killed last night."

"How do you know he was killed?"

"He was strangled. I went to the police and showed them his body, and they determined that I couldn't have possibly done it. It took great strength, which I don't have, to choke him. They sent me here. It is punishment enough."

"But if you didn't do anything wrong, you need not be punished."

"I have done many things wrong. I must have, since my parents were taken from me. It is life."

When the break was over, Darcelle said, "We will talk more later, Michelle, if you like."

Michelle nodded. Then, everyone went back to work until the day was done.


	11. Chapter 11

Later on that night, when all of the children were suppose to be asleep, Darcelle and Michelle stayed up to talk. Michelle whispered, "Darcelle, you are the first person to speak to me kindly."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"So many people are cruel and unfeeling. It seems that no one in this whole world cares about anyone but themselves."

"Yes," Darcelle responded, slowly. "It does seem that way." Then, she asked the other, "I don't mean to pry, but where are you from?"

"Here in Paris. My father and mother and I lived in a small flat."

"Have you any brothers or sisters?"

"No. My parents died when I was very little, and I stayed with my grandmother until she died. By then, I was old enough to work in various places. I was brought to Monsieur Voclain, then when he died, I was sent here. What about you?"

"I never knew my parents," Darcelle replied. I just know they were not from here. They came to Paris when I was a baby. I had no one else. My father died first, and then I overheard that my mother went mad and killed herself."

"How awful! I am so sorry!"

"I feel nothing much about it. As I said, I didn't know them. Anyway, I was taken from place to place, being forced to work in various homes. I cleaned and cooked, mostly. I ended up living with Monsieur Voclain for two years until he gave me away to this place."

"He seemed to be a very mean man."

"He was. He got drunk a lot and ordered me to clean the apartment to perfection. No matter how hard I tried, it was never good enough. I was never good enough. He also made me steal?"

"Steal?"

"Yes, from houses and stores. He would then sell those things and make money or eat the food, and I got very little."

"Are you glad he's dead?"

Darcelle paused. "Yes," she replied. "He deserved what he got."

"I cannot wait until we are adults! Then, we can leave this place!"

"Will our freedom be guaranteed, though?"

"They do not keep adults here. They make children work so they can get away with not paying them a living wage. Someday, we will be free!"

"Let us go to sleep," Darcelle stated. Michelle agreed, and then they both lied down and drifted off into an uncomfortable slumber.

Early the next morning, the orphanage was quiet. Everyone was already awake when Darcelle awoke. All of the children were waiting for the woman who owned the orphanage to order them to wake up and eat. They all waited. Still, the place was quiet. Finally, one of the girls went downstairs to see where the woman was. After a few moments, they all heard a scream. Some of them rushed downstairs. The ones on the second floor heard the ones downstairs yell, "She's dead! She's dead!" The rest of them ran to the first floor and into the living room. There, on the floor, laid the woman. Her face was pale, and her eyes and mouth were fixed in an expression of horror. Around her neck was a huge, red mark.

"She has been strangled!"

All of the children were shocked, but some of the older ones said, "Now is our chance! No one is here to keep us from running away!"

"Are you insane?" others asked. "The overseers at the factory would wonder where we are and catch us!"

"Would you rather go back to that horrible place?"

"Of course not, but-"

"Then we must move quickly! We need to go in separate directions. Take whatever you can!"

All of the children took silverware, food, clothes, whatever they could find. Some of them smashed things in order to use them as weapons. "It is now or never!" one orphan shouted.

They all rushed out the back door and split up, running as quickly as they could. Darcelle and Michelle were the last to leave. "I can't believe we have this chance!" Michelle exclaimed, excited.

"We must hurry!" Darcelle quickly said.

"Will we stay together?"

"Of course! Come on! It will be better if we use stealth instead of simply running."

The two girls stayed out of sight as Darcelle led the other girl around the city. Later, as they entered an alley, Michelle said, out of breath, "Can we rest? I can barely breathe."

"Yes, but we must be quiet."

They sat down, out of sight. The two suddenly heard voices coming near them. They were loud enough for the girls to hear. "Isn't it just awful? The man who owned the match factory died last night."

Another person gasped.

The first person said, "Yes, it's true! They found him in his home, slumped over his sofa. He had been strangled!"

Darcelle and Michelle looked at each other.

"Do they know who did it?"

"No, not yet. They say that the one who murdered him left no clues."

"How dreadful! I hope they catch that killer! The owner was such a nice man."

The girls sneered. Apparently, the two women didn't know the truth.

Soon, the voices faded, and it was safe to leave the alley.

"Where shall we go?" Michelle asked. We both have no home, and we certainly can't go back to the orphanage."

"We will find a place, my dear friend," Darcelle replied.

"You consider me your...friend?"

"Of course."

"That makes me so happy! Let us not part for a long time!"

"I agree. Now, we must find some food."

"But we have no money!"

"Then I must steal some."

"No, Darcelle, you musn't!" Michelle gasped.

"We have no choice. We don't have money, and I won't let us starve."

"Be careful, then."

"Stay right there."

Darcelle snuck over to a food stand. She picked up a rock and threw it, distracting the owner of the stand. Then, quickly, she took two apples and rushed to the hiding place. She gave her friend one. "Darcelle, you moved so quickly!" Michelle whispered.

"It is not just about speed, but also about stealth."

"I wish I could do that."

Darcelle looked away. "It is not a talent I wish to possess. I have it out of necessity. I'm not good at anything else."

"I'm sure you are. I am good at reading and writing."

"I never learned."

"I'll teach you. Those skills are very useful, as well. Will you teach me your skill?"

"I guess so. But we must get into a safe area before we do any learning."

"Then let's go!"

Darcelle was surprised at her friend's enthusiam and optimism. Despite her harsh life, Michelle was still able to keep a smile on her face. Darcelle somewhat wished she could be the same way, but she also thought that being solemn would keep her feet on the ground, so to speak, to keep her being realistic about life. Right at the moment, they had to focus on finding a place to stay before it became nightfall. They both knew how dangerous it was to be out wandering the streets at night. 


	12. Chapter 12

The girls were thankful that they found a somewhat safe place to stay for the night. It was a small, abandoned shack. To be cautious, they kept their voices down when they talked. After a while, the girls fell asleep.

Darcelle's slumber was troubled and restless. She kept hearing music, music from the only opera she had seen. She saw Erik. She saw the underground house. She heard and saw everything she had and was still trying to forget. Suddenly, she woke up, screaming.

The girl heard Michelle's voice ask, terrified, "Darcelle! Darcelle, wake up! Are you alright?"

Darcelle opened her eyes and sat up. She tried to get a hold of herself, replying, "Yes, I just...had a bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I will be fine."

"I am here if you ever do."

"Thank you, my friend."

They both couldn't go back to sleep, so Michelle tried to change the subject. "Where do you want to live? Shall we stay in Paris?"

"Since all the people who would be after us are dead, it would not be a bad idea. However, either way, we are doomed to do menial work."

"Oh, now, that will not be so!" Michelle said, cheerfully. "There must be something we can do. I know! I can be a teacher's apprentice since I can read and write and even do figures, and you can do police work since you are so good at sneaking around! That way, we would both be doing more decent work and make ourselves have a better life! Oh, I would love to be a teacher! Don't you think this sounds like a good idea? We could put our funds together and live in a nice flat and wear pretty clothes and be clean and..."

Darcelle smiled at her friend. She had such wonderful, if not realistic, ideas. Michelle started planning everything out, and Darcelle listened. The more she thought about it, the more Darcelle was convinced that perhaps her friend's ideas might actually work, so, she started adding ideas of her own, and they all seemed to fit in a perfect puzzle.

After much talk, the girls decided that they needed more sleep and that they'd start putting their plans in action the next day.

Darcelle and Michelle had gotten so used to waking up at dawn that they awoke at that time the next day, even though they really didn't have to anymore. Michelle was still excited about their plan and nearly dragged Darcelle off the ground. "Which place shall we go first?"

"Whichever one is closer," Darcelle replied, "which is the police station."

"Good. Now, just tell them that you would like to do some undercover work. I'm positive they will appreciate extra help in catching criminals."

"And if they don't?"

"Oh, stop being so pessimistic! Come on!"

Although Darcelle agreed that it was a good idea, she was still unsure. She technically was a criminal herself; she had spent most of her life stealing from many, many people. Was it a good idea for her to work with the police? On the other hand, she had never been caught, so she didn't have a bad reputation. Maybe she could redeem herself in some way.

On the way to the police station, Darcelle stopped by a store. They hadn't eaten anything since last night, and all they had had were one apple each. They had to feed themselves. "Wait, Michelle."

Michelle stopped and turned toward Michelle. "What is it?"

"Stay hidden. I will get us some food."

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"I will just be in and out, quickly. Hide over there."

"If you say so."

Darcelle picked the locked, went in, quietly, and grabbed a few items that would make them a good meal.

As soon as she stepped out, a police officer ran toward her. "You, girl! How did you get in there?!"

Darcelle wasted no time in sprinting away from him. She ran past the place where Michelle was hiding so the officer wouldn't find her. Not dropping the food, Darcelle ran to a hiding place and stayed quiet. She heard the officer shout, "Thief! Thief!", and he blew his whistle.

When she was sure the officer had gone, Darcelle came out of hiding and went to where her friend was. "Michelle, it's me," Darcelle whispered.

"Darcelle, thank goodness you are alright!" Michelle whispered back. "Let us get out of here!"

"It is not safe for you, now. The police know who I am, and you are in danger as long as you are with me."

"No! I will not leave you!"

"You must, for your own safety!"

"But-"

All of a sudden, the officer who had chased her came back. Darcelle turned around. "Now, I have you, you thief!" He pointed a gun at her. "I will make sure you never see the light of day again!"

"NO!"

Michelle darted in front of Darcelle. The officer fired his gun, and Michelle fell to the ground. Darcelle, forgetting her surroundings, knelt down beside her. "MICHELLE!" She wept over her, screaming and cradling her in her arms. Blood poured onto her arms, but she did not care. Her friend was dead.

As she cried over Michelle, she heard a 'thud' a few feet away from her. She looked up, and through teary eyes, saw that Michelle's murderer was on the ground. She heard a voice say, "Come, we must get you both to a safe place. Others will come soon."

"I will not leave her!" Darcelle sobbed.

"You won't. We will take her to a safe place. Please, before anyone comes."

The person who spoke lifted Michelle up, and he and Darcelle ran. She didn't know who the person was, nor did she care, just as long as she didn't leave her deceased friend's side.

They ran up to a carriage, and the person opened the door. He carefully placed Michelle's body on one seat, and Darcelle sat across from her. The person disappeared, and soon, the carriage was moving. Darcelle barely noticed how bumpy the ride was; her body felt numb to any physical pain. All she could think about was Michelle and the brief time they knew each other. She spent the whole trip weeping.  
> <p>


	13. Chapter 13

Darcelle paid no attention to the ride until the carriage stopped. She looked out the window. They were in a countryside with lots of hills and trees. It was unlike any place she had ever seen before.

The carriage door opened. There was a figure cloaked in dark blue. The person's face was covered up, and it was wearing a black hat. The person reached in the carriage and took Michelle out. Darcelle followed it to a flat piece of ground. It had green grass and beautiful, tiny flowers on it. The figure gently laid her on the ground. "I will dig a grave for her," it said in a muffled voice.

Darcelle sat down beside her friend's body and said nothing. All she could do was think of how she was when she was alive. Even though they had been friends for only a brief time, it felt like they had been friends forever. She remembered Michelle's optimism and sweetness and the plans that she had. She was so confident, so hopeful, so excited about what the future would bring. Now, she had no future, and all of her dreams had been destroyed.

After the figure was done digging, it picked up Michelle's body and walked over to the grave. "I will do my best to lay her in there as gently as I can."

"The grave is deep, so it would...be impossible not to simply drop her." Darcelle struggled to say. "I only ask that you not throw her in there."

"That, I most certainly will not do."

As carefully as it could, the figure attempted to lie Michelle's body in the grave, though it could only go down so far before the figure had to let go. Darcelle lowered her head when she heard the corpse fall to the bottom.

There was silence, then the figure began burying Michelle. Darcelle kept her head lowered. Neither of them said nothing.

When the last pile of earth had covered the grave, Darcelle found a few flowers. She knelt down and carefully laid them where her friend was now buried. Tears streamed down her face. "I shouldn't have gone into that store. I should have just kept walking. None of this would have happened if I hadn't been so stupid! My friend, you are dead just because I wanted to get a few things."

"It is not your fault," the figure's muffled voice said.

"Yes, it is. Anyway, I should thank you for giving her a proper grave. This is a beautiful place, just what she deserved.

"I wish I had been there in time to save her."

Darcelle suddenly looked up, startled. The figure's voice was no longer muffled, and its face was no longer covered.

"Erik!"

"Yes, Darcelle, it is I. I know I said you would never see me again, but-"

"You killed those people, didn't you?"

"Yes, child. I used my Punjab lasso to strangle them. I also killed the fiend who shot your friend."

Darcelle became overwhelmed. "But, why?" Then, her eyes widened. "You've been following me!"

Erik nodded once. "I owed it to you to give you a better life, even though I couldn't be seen."

Darcelle froze, stunned. She didn't know whether to curse him or thank him. "What am I suppose to think of this?!"

"Think what you will," Erik replied.

"You stalked me, you killed people, and I haven't forgotten the other things you did! I can make it on my own! I've never needed your help!"

"This is the gratitude I get for helping you escape from those people?!"

"What does it matter?! I want you to go away! I want you to leave me alone for good! You're a monster! You will always be a monster! I want you to go away!"

"If that is what you wish," Erik sneered.

"It is! Now, leave me alone here!"

Erik stomped to the carriage and rode away out of sight. She glared at it until it was gone. Then, she turned her head toward the grave. "What will I do now?" she asked, even though she knew Michelle couldn't hear her. She was alone again, and she knew not what the future held.


	14. Chapter 14

Darcelle couldn't go back to Paris; she was now a criminal. The only good thing about this was that she could start a new life in another place. She didn't care where it was, just as long as it was away from Paris.

The girl made no plans; she just wandered farther and farther until she came to a small town. When she arrived, she was exhausted and nearly starving. She refused to steal, even when she was hungry.

It was a rainy evening when she knocked on the door of the only inn in the town. An old woman opened the door, but before Darcelle could say anything, she fainted from hunger.

Later, the young girl awoke in a warm bed. The woman that she had seen opened the door. Seeing she was awake, the woman said, "You gave me a fright, child! You've been in bed for two days straight! The only times you were awake is when I managed to feed you! Poor dear! What is your name?"

"Darcelle," she replied.

"Darcelle. What a nice name. Now, you wait here while I get you more to eat."

The young girl was surprised by the woman's kindness. The only two people who were ever kind to her were...

The old woman came back with a bowl of porridge. "There. Eat up, dear. You must get your strength back."

Darcelle refused, saying that she had no money to pay her.

"Nonsense!" the woman exclaimed. "I will not let a poor child starve. Please, eat."

Gratefully, Darcelle ate the whole contents of the bowl. She felt much better afterward.

As the old woman took the empty bowl away, she asked, "Now, what was such a young girl doing out in the rain? You would catch your death of cold."

Death. Her heart sank hearing the word. It reminded her of her now-deceased friend.

The old woman must have seen her expression because she quickly apologized. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."

"It's alright."

"Oh, my! I forgot to introduce myself. I am Sophie Delacroix, but please, just call me Sophie. I hate formalities."

"A pleasure to meet you," Darcelle said.

"The same to you, Darcelle. You may stay here as long as you want."

"I don't want to trouble you."

"You certainly won't."

"Then I will stay until I get my strength back."

"Stay longer, if you want to. At least let me find you some fresh clothes and shoes."

Darcelle began to protest, but Sophie cut her off, insisting on finding her a dress and some shoes the next day. A little bit later, Sophie left and wished Darcelle a good night.

Though the bed was comfortable and the room was cozy, the girl could not sleep. Troubling thoughts plagued her. Memories raced through her head. Feelings of guilt and sorrow took over her and prevented her from drifting off into a slumber.

The next day, Sophie knocked on the door and came in with a dress and a pair of shoes. "Try these on, dear," she said, setting the items on the bed.

Darcelle did so. The outfit fit her perfectly. Both the dress and the shoes were clean, however, she was not. Sophie drew up a warm bath for her, and she bathed in the privacy one of the washrooms.

All the dirt and grime seemed to melt off of her. She couldn't remember the last time she bathed. When she was finished, she dried herself and put her new clothes on. She looked in the mirror. She barely recognized herself. For the first time, she felt pretty even though she felt like the ugliest person in the world.

When Darcelle came downstairs, Sophie smiled. "Look at you! Pretty as a rose! Look, Henri, isn't she pretty?"

A man who stood next to Sophie, whom the girl assumed was her husband, agreed. "Yes, quite."

"Thank you for letting me spend the night, monsieur and madam," Darcelle said, politely. "You are very kind."

"You are most certainly welcome."

"I must head out. Thank you again." She turned her head. "It...It means so much to me."

"Where are you heading, madamoiselle? Perhaps I can take you to your destination," Monsieur Delacroix asked.

Darcelle wasn't sure what to say. She had no idea where she was going. She thought about lying and saying a random town, but she could not lie to the people who had shown her kindness, so she replied, "I don't know. I have no idea where I'm going."

"Perhaps you should stay here," Monsieur Delacroix suggested. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Almost an adult." Henri turned toward Sophie. "My love, why don't you teach this lady a trade?" To Darcelle, he said, "My wife knows how to do many things. Maybe you can specialize in a certain skill, so when you are old enough, you will have a means of providing for yourself."

Both Sophie and Henri were so eager to make her stay that she finally agreed.

And so, Darcelle stayed at the hotel with Monsieur and Madam Delacroix, learning how to sew and read and cook. She was a fairly quick learner and was grateful to both of them and tried to show it, to put a smile on her face and seem optimistic. Inside, though, she never recovered from the nightmares of her past. No matter how hard she tried to be cheerful, the dark feelings never went away. 


	15. Chapter 15

Three years passed, and Darcelle turned eighteen. Since she was an adult, she was expected to make her way into the world, and she was ready. She was going to work in a tailor's shop in another town not too far from where she lived.

The day before she was to set out, she sat with Sophie and Henri in the living area. Henri read the paper as the ladies both sewed. Henri spoke. "You won't believe the nonsense that is happening in Paris."

"What, my dear?" Sophie asked.

"'Says here that the ghost who haunted the opera house died. Can you believe such nonsense?"

Darcelle quickly lifted her head up while Sophie said, "They will write anything to sell papers."

The young woman stood up, dropping her sampler. "I must go to Paris!"

Henri and Sophie stared at her, shocked. "Whatever for, Darcelle?"

"I...I...need to do something there."

"But, you start your apprenticeship tomorrow, dear."

"I know, but what I need to do is very important. I must do it! I will never forgive myself if I don't!"

Monsieur and Madam Delacroix stared at each other, then Henri said to Darcelle, slowly, "If it is that important to you, we will tell the tailor to expect you at a later date."

"Thank you! This means so much to me! I must set out right now!"

"Right now?"

Before either of them could say anything else, Darcelle rushed out the door and rode a horse into the night.

It was half a day's trip to Paris. Darcelle hoped that after three years, no one would recognize her. She went straight to the opera house and to the exit that Erik had shown her. She was surprised she remembered the way. She went inside and desperately tried to find the way to the underground house. Erik had not shown her the way, but certainly, she could find it.

It took her a couple of hours, but Darcelle finally found herself close to the lake. She stopped before she could get there, for near it laid a skeleton. It was true. Erik was dead.

Seeing the skeleton stopped her in her tracks. She had come here to see it for herself. When she saw the proof, a wave of conflicted emotions washed over her. She had hated him for all that he had done. He hurt her, killed people and stalked her. Then, realized something. He hadn't been as bad as she thought. He let her sit in his box, which no one had been allowed to do. He saved her from getting thrown out of the opera house. He had taken her to a place where no one who was after her would find her. He had bought her nice things and fed her. He had saved her from drowning. He had let her go after he had been hostile to her. He had stopped the people who were horrible to her from repeating their actions. And he had buried Michelle, her dear friend. Although he had made mistakes, he had been kind in his own twisted way. He was the first person who ever showed her kindness, even before Michelle and Monsieur and Madam Delacroix.

And now, Erik was dead. It was too late to apologize, to tell him that she had also made many mistakes. She had lost yet another person who had made a big impact on her life.

Or had she?

Darcelle examined the skeleton closely. All of the skin was gone. How could it be if he had not been dead for very long? Then, she examined the skull. It looked nothing like Erik's. Could it be that he was still...

The woman rushed to the lake, jumped in, and swam to the enterance of the house. She pounded on the wall. She searched for the spot that he used to open the door, but it wasn't there. She furiously did everything she could to open the door. She knew it was there. It had to be there. She cried out his name many times, all the while continuing to hit the wall.

All of a sudden, the door slowly opened, and Darcelle nearly rushed inside, when she stopped and cried out. Erik was lying on the floor, arm extended, fingertips touching the door. He was emaciated, and his clothes were worn and wrinkled, as if he had not changed them for years. He had his mask off, which showed a gruesome-looking face, but Darcelle did not care. She fell to her knees and picked him up and held him. He felt light and limp. He spoke, but his voice was very weak. "Madamoiselle Darcelle, I did not expect to see you."

"I'm so sorry, Erik!" she sobbed. "I was horrible to you!"

"My temper...My cruelty..."

"I have seen cruelty, and you didn't act anywhere near that!"

"My dear, you gave me a little light in my life. You have made me happy, far more than you will ever know. The love I have for you has redeemed me of all the horrible things I have done. The fact that you have come to me now has given me peace."

Love? He loved her?

"How can you love me? I am far beyond redemption. When I think of all the things I did-"

"No one is beyond redemption, my dear. As we live, the choices we make decide who we truly are. Remember this, and remember me."

"I've never forgotten you. I am ashamed that it took so long for me to recognize your good deeds. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Of course. Now, I can die in peace."

"No, Erik, you will not die! You CAN'T die!" She stood up with him. "Come on, I will get you some food and a place to rest! Henri and Sophie will let you stay at the inn; they will help me take care of you and nurse you back to health."

As soon as they stood up, something fell out of Erik's hand. She recognized it as being his morphine case. She knew the drug, as well as the lack of food, were the causes of his weakened state. He needed a doctor.

They left the opera house and rode to the hospital, where Erik was immediately taken to be treated. Darcelle prayed that he would get well.

The young woman was able to write a letter to Henri and Sophie. She apologized for leaving so abruptly and that a close friend of hers was gravely ill. She knew they would understand.

Erik was in the hospital for two weeks. Darcelle was regularly updated on his condition. At first, he showed no progress, but gradually, he got better and better. The first time she got to see him, he was awake. He was still weak, but not nearly as much as he was before.

The man turned his head when Darcelle entered. The first thing he said was, "Ah, then. I am not dead, and I am not going mad."

Darcelle sat next to him. "No, my dear, you are not, and I am so happy!"

He looked at her, curiously. "You have never called me 'my dear' before."

"That is because I didn't love you before."

Suddenly, tears filled Erik's eyes. "No one...No one has ever loved me. Not even my own mother."

"You are indeed loved, and you must get well." Then, Darcelle leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

Erik broke down. "I have never been kissed! Darcelle, my love, you have made me the happiest man in the world!"

Suddenly, his expression changed. "You put your lips on my forehead. That means..." He attempted to sit up, and he roared, "Where is my mask?!"

"Darling, it was off when I found you. Don't concern yourself with it."

"Do you realize what has happened?! I HAVE BEEN SEEN! People have seen my face! I didn't even want YOU to ever see it!"

"Hush, my love. It does not matter now."

"Does not matter?! Why am I still here?! Have they not looked at me?!"

"Everyone just thinks that your face was distorted when you got ill."

"Distorted?" Erik scoffed.

All of a sudden, a nurse entered. "Is there something wrong?"

Erik cried out and covered and turned his face. "Leave me!" he shouted.

"He is ashamed of his looks," Darcelle said, quickly.

"You are ill," the nurse responded to Erik. "You have been for quite a long time. It is expected that you look like you do. Perhaps, madamoiselle, you should leave and let monsieur rest."

Darcelle stood up, and before exiting, she said, "I will come and visit you again, darling."

A few days later, Henri and Sophie Delacroix entered the hospital. As soon as Darcelle saw them, she ran up to them and hugged them. "We got your letter," Sophie exclaimed. "We were worried about you and decided to come to Paris to look for you. Is your friend doing alright?"

"He is getting better."

"Who is he?"

"His name is Erik, and we..." She didn't know how to say it. "We are in love."

Henri and Sophie exchanged glances, then said, joyfully, "Oh, so that is why it was so important."

Darcelle replied, "Yes, and I will not be home until he gets better."

"Very well. May we see him?"

"Later, but I need to tell you that he is uncomfortable about people seeing his face. He is very sick, and it has taken an extreme toll on his looks." She hated lying to them, but this one time, she had to, for Erik's sake.

"Not to worry," they simply replied.

Sometime later, Henri and Sophie and Darcelle were allowed to see Erik. When they came in, Erik turned over. "It is alright, Erik. These are the wonderful people who have taken care of me for the last three years. Show your face without fear."

Slowly, Erik turned and laid on his back. He closed his eyes, awaiting screams, but instead, Henri and Sophie said, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Erik. Darcelle has told us so much about you. You sound like a wonderful man, and we hope you get better soon."

Surprised at their kindness, Erik sat up. "It is good to me you, also. You are very kind for giving my lady a safe and loving home, something she has always deserved."

Darcelle blushed.

When Erik had regained his strength and health, he was released from the hospital. He refused to go without his face being covered, so Darcelle brought him his mask.

As soon as the four of them left, Darcelle told Monsieur and Madam Delacroix that she would like to speak to Erik alone. When they gave them their space, Darcelle asked, "Where shall we go?"

Erik stood still, thinking. "I would not like to leave your side again, but I cannot ask you to stay at my home."

"Why don't we stay in the town where I have been living? I am sure I will find work there. I was suppose to be a tailor's apprentice in a town close to there, but I imagine that she has changed her mind."

Erik looked uncomfortable. "I should not. I do not belong anywhere but underground."

"You belong with me, as I with you. We will both be fine."

"Very well. If it will make you happy."

In reply, Darcelle kissed him.


	16. Chapter 16

In time, life became better and better for Erik and Darcelle. Darcelle worked for a tailor in town, and Erik was able to give music lessons. Nearly everything from his home was brought to the inn (and miraculously, everything fit in there) until both he and his lover could both afford to move to a house close to Monsieur and Madam Delacroix. The happy couple married the same day they bought the house. It was a joyful, beautiful ceremony, and it was the day that Erik and Darcelle became man and wife. Yes, things got better for them.

One day, in the spring, when the flowers were in full bloom, Darcelle and Erik went to the spot where Michelle was buried. Beautiful, tiny flowers grew on what was a bare patch of dirt. Darcelle knelt down in front of it and laid a bouquet of daisies on the grave. They were silent until Darcelle asked, "Do you think she would forgive me?"

"You were a good friend to her, and she saved your life. You gave her something she had never had: kindness and friendship."

"But, how can I forgive myself?"

"You must think of all the joy you two had. No matter what, she will always be in your heart. She would not want you to drown in guilt and sorrow."

"Then, I must move on."

Darcelle rose to her feet. She took one last look before they left and whispered, "Goodbye, my friend. I will come visit you again soon."

Erik helped his wife into the carriage, and they rode off toward home, where they would spend the rest of their lives in bliss. 


End file.
